Oriental Limited
by Daphodill
Summary: Her hand was promised, and her fate was sealed. Not even death could keep her from it. Entry into the TLS 2013 Angst Contest. I toy with canon a little bit, adjusting timelines and locations.


****This is my first attempt at writing a historical fic, much less one from Bella's POV. I mess with canon a bit, adjusting the timeline and putting folk where Steph never intended.****

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**Oriental Limited**

**Chapter 1**

Blunt nails claw at my throat, and I gnash my teeth. My chest heaves from the strain and anxiety. Blinded by pain, it feels as if my heart would burst right through my chest. The rush of blood pumping through my body is so loud in my ears and feels as if it were hot lava flowing through my veins, each beat burning more than the last. Soon there will be nothing left of me, only ash.

_Why will no one help me? Please, help me! Make it stop burning! I want to die. Anything to make it stop burning!_

My mouth falls open in silent cries. Tears stream down my face; I can smell the saltiness in the air. A sheen of sweat covers my body.

My exposed flesh is blotted with a cool, damp rag only for it to be inflamed again in the next instant.

"Is this normal, Carlisle? Should she be this quiet?" _I know this voice_...my mind struggles to place it.

The pain is too much for me to concentrate on any one thing.

Hours passed which seem like days. The burn never subsides, only intensifies, and centralizes. A flaming hot box seems to have been inserted into my chest, incinerating me from the inside out.

More agonizing hours pass, and my mind retreats into itself, flipping through my life as if it were a high-speed picture show.

Letters, handkerchiefs, postcards, trains, smiles, laughter, brown eyes, green eyes, bronze hair, beaches, trolleys, lions, cotton candy, popcorn, small touches, soft kisses, pink cheeks, snow, twinkling lights, parties, gowns, engagement rings, sickness, death, shadows, phantoms, ships, ocean, more rings, notes, smoke, soldiers, more sickness, cold hands, red eyes...Burning. Oh the burning.

"Listen to her heart, Edward. It is almost complete," an unfamiliar voice says.

_Edward? Edward! Help me, please. Make it stop. It hurts so badly. You are my friend, please help me!_ My body writhes and trembles as soft moans escape my pursed lips.

"Isabella, my love, all is well. The pain is almost over."

My mind is anguished, overwhelmed with the pain of the burn, and the frustration of my suddenly full and muddied mind.

A feral shriek falls from my lips as my back arches unnaturally from the bed. I fall back with a thud, the act synchronized with my final heartbeat.

The pain is all at once gone and I can relax once again.

_Death isn't so bad_.

A smile plays on my lips at the thought of not being alone in the afterlife. If Edward is here, then maybe Aunt Millie is here, too. At least I will spend my eternity with friends and family.

Edward is sweet, and Aunt Millie is always entertaining.

My throat aches, burns, as if I am suffering from an illness. Clearing my throat and swallowing a few times does nothing to relieve the pain. "Water," I rasp. The smooth, musical tone of my voice betrays the distress that I presently feel.

"Open your eyes, love," a familiar voice directs.

I furrow my brow in confusion. Everything is askew in my mind and body. Had I fallen ill? Perhaps my fever has broken and I am slowly regaining consciousness. The few months I'd spent as a nurse's assistant provided me with first-hand experience dealing with the Spanish Influenza or Purple Death, as the Brits call it. I had seen many succumb to the delirium brought on by fever only to expire within a few hours. When hallucinations and mindless ravings take over, it is almost always too late. The rare, strong ones fall deathly still as their bodies fight for survival.

It is odd to have such clear and rational thought, I am confident I have expired. What sins have I committed that would require me to suffer as I am? The ache in my throat is agonizing.

"Open your eyes, please, Isabella."

Afraid of the fire and brimstone that awaits me; I shake my head to reject the notion. My nostrils flare as a delectable scent invades my senses. It is rich, warm, and earthy. The burn in my throat increases, as does the flow of saliva.

Intense heat washes over my face, and a soft, velvety fabric brushes against my lips. A thick and rapid heartbeat fills my ears. A pulsation thumps against my mouth. The press of the fur becomes more insistent, and I finally relent and open like an infant being enticed to suckle. I grip the source of my relief like a vice, its warm form twitching in my embrace.

The warm satisfaction that floods my mouth is instant relief for my inflamed throat. I bite down harder and purse my lips, creating a tight seal. Sucking greedily, I whimper when my portion is no more.

A tight growl erupts from my chest as the now cold creature is wrenched from my arms. Another warm form is thrust in my face and I quickly release the spent creature in favor of the fresh one. Again, I make quick work of my meal which is traded out for yet another.

I have no idea how long this goes on.

Finally sated and my throat calmed to a dull ache, I slowly open my eyes.

The room is dark, yet I see everything with unprecedented detail. The grain of the wood floor, the weave of the rug, the soft amber of his eyes...

Sitting up with a start, the metal of the wrought iron bed frame protests my movements and buckles against my back.

"Doctor Cullen, are you dead too?"

He smiles widely. Something about it is unnatural and upsetting. I inch back to put more distance between us. He must notice my distress, and moves back to sit on the chaise across the room.

"Isabella, someone is most anxious to see you. Edward, please come in."

Edward appears in the doorway, his eyes an eerie red hue. The same red from my nightmares. I gasp, backing up until I cannot move any farther.

"My love, I'm so glad that you've awakened." Edward is suddenly kneeling before me. He moves too fast, and my expanded mind is reeling as I attempt to recall all the different ways that the afterlife had been portrayed. This scenario is foreign to me.

"We're all dead, then? Where's Aunt Millie? I hardly know Doctor Cullen, why is he sharing my afterlife, Edward?"

Edward looks back at the man. Something passes between them and I am left feeling even more confused that the moment before.

Doctor Cullen shifts in his seat, crossing and uncrossing his legs, and annoying me. I have only met the man once and thought him odd. Now, he will irritate me throughout the afterlife.

Yes, I am now convinced that I am in Hell.

Sitting against the wall, I cross my arms over my chest petulantly. What had I done to deserve this fate? Surely, I was less of a sinner than Aunt Millie. Pondering this for a moment, I conclude that I reside in my own personal hell. I liked Edward well enough, but Doctor Cullen I am not so sure about.

Edward passed on months ago, maybe Doctor Cullen followed shortly thereafter. The whole scene is odd and unsettling. Something in me raises all sorts of alarms as I inspect Carlisle and Edward with new eyes. Their skin is so pale, and I definitely don't remember Edward being quite so handsome. His youthfulness seems to have diminished. He was always a serious boy, but he looks so much more a man now. His shoulders strong and broad. His jaw sharp and square. His eyes firm and piercing. His lips...are they still soft, tender, and tentative yet possessive? Is his touch still commanding but reverent?

Why are his lovely green pools now crimson?

I ponder these great many things as Edward and Doctor Cullen communicate with a series of harsh glances and hand gestures.

"Please, Carlisle, explain to her as you explained it all to me," Edward pleads. The older man nods and purses his lips as if pondering where to begin. Edward scoffs. "Why are you being so dramatic? Get on with it!" Doctor Cullen laughs and his smile reaches his warm, honey-colored eyes this time.

This image calms me exponentially. Edward notices my more relaxed posture and moves to sit beside me.

He takes my hand in his and squeezes it gently in silent support.

Carlisle leans forward to address us. "Isabella...you know that you were gravely ill, don't you?"

I shake my head, but I have my suspicions. "I didn't make it. I am dead? We're all dead from Influenza?"

"Not exactly, my dear," Doctor Cullen answers, shaking his head. "You remember Edward and his parents falling ill back in Chicago, right?"

This time, I nod.

"You understand that Mr. and Mrs. Masen did not survive, correct?"

I nod again.

"Edward barely made it himself. I saved him."

My face twists into a mask of confusion and incredulity. "But you came to me, brought me his effects. I buried him! I buried them all!"

"Love, please calm down and hear him out." Edward strokes a soothing circuit up and down my arm.

"I am sorry to have deceived you, Isabella, but I had no choice. I was lonesome, and Mrs. Masen...she somehow understood that I had it within my power to save her son from death's cold embrace. Edward begged me to save you as well."

"What do you mean? There are hundreds of doctors, why would you be the only one that could cure us?"

"Love, Carlisle didn't cure us...he changed us. I woke to this life, and my only thoughts were of you. I watched over you, waiting until we could be reunited."

_The shadowed figure, the songs, the strange occurrences…the ring. It was all Edward?_

"I don't understand, Edward. If we are not dead or alive, then what are we?"

Doctor Cullen lets out a defeated sigh. "Isabella, what we are...we are vampires."

"Come again?"

_Vampires aren't real. They're make believe…myths._

"Vampires, Isabella. I am a vampire. I have been this way for more than two hundred years. You and Edward are vampires as well, sired by me."

I snatch my hand away from Edward to smother my scream. My mind goes to recent events, the warm lush heartbeats, biting, and gulping down large mouthfuls of tangy, sweet satisfaction. I move my hand to my throat as the burn returns.

"Ah, I imagine that your thirst has returned," Doctor Cullen correctly theorizes.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I whisper a question I fear the answer to. "What...will I drink? I can't..." I shake my head again. "I won't murder anyone. I'll kill myself before it ever would come to that."

Doctor Cullen responds to my comment with a hearty laugh. "If suicide were possible, young one, believe me, I would have been overjoyed with that discovery. Instead of taking life, I choose to preserve it. We will not feed from humans. Our diet will be animals only. I choose to reside in areas where there is an abundance of open space and wildlife." Doctor Cullen's tone leaves no room to question. Something stirs in me that causes me to drop my eyes from my sire's.

"Edward." Doctor Cullen's tone and gaze are firm. He stares at him for a moment before Edward nods in acknowledgement of whatever has been silently communicated. Doctor Cullen clears his throat as he leaves the room.

"Yes, Carlisle." There were no words exchanged. I did not hear anything. What is Edward responding to?

He releases my hand and removes himself from the bed. "Isabella, would you like a tour of our home?" Edward asks, offering his hand.

Standing, I realize that I am wearing nothing but a mere sleeping gown. Embarrassment washes over me as I try to preserve my modesty. "Edward, I assume this is to be my room. Is there anything decent for me to wear?"

Edward smiles as he moves to the armoire and opens it with a flourish. Inside holds an array of silks and linen, the finest fabrics I have ever seen. There are dozens of dresses in a variety of colors, and for every occasion. In the chest of drawers, I find lace and silk undergarments and stockings. I am confident my cheeks flush scarlet.

"How...who provided all of this?" I stammer.

"Carlisle and I did, of course."

My mouth falls open at the thought of a man purchasing such intimate items for me. Edward recognizes my surprise.

"No, no, Isabella. We commissioned the neighbor's daughter to stock your room. We explained that Carlisle's niece...you...were coming to live with us and needed supplies. You'll find everything you need has been provided for. Should you need anything else, please let Carlisle or myself know."

Edward tries to keep his eyes on my face. His behavior is reminiscent of our first meeting. "I thought that I'd never seen a sight lovelier than Isabella Swan when she was human. Now, as a vampire, you easily are perfection personified."

His eyes search my face and settle on my neck. Brushing lightly up my shoulder, his fingers graze the chain hanging from my neck. Lithely holding the metal between his fingers, he pulls it up from between my breasts. On the end of it is his ring.

"I long to place this back on your finger and make you my wife, Isabella."

Edward's words are confident and determined, and I shiver under the intensity. What else is there for me now, but to be his wife?

Suddenly looking sheepish, he steps away from me and apologizes. "I'm sorry. I was too forward. I shall leave you to your task. Please call for me when you are ready." Edward bends to kiss my hand as he exits the room. "I shall see you soon, my beautiful Isabella."

Standing in front of the large oval mirror, I remove my gown and assess myself from bottom to top.

Always an active and energetic child, my human form was healthy and fit. The creature reflected back at me no longer holds the softness of youth. Her leg muscles are firm and defined. Her hips seem shapelier, and her belly taught. Moving further up her form, I notice that her breasts are fuller, and shockingly, even more pert than before. Her neck is long and sinewy. Staring for a moment, my eyes train on the shimmery crescent-shaped mark near her collarbone. My hand flies to the wound, which causes my eyes to marvel at the smooth flex and extension of her arm muscles.

The face of the woman I see is my own, yet not. The shape of the face is correct; the hair color is right, but better. Enhanced. My chestnut locks now have depth, with traces of blonde and auburn running through it. Lovely. I play with my hair, enjoying the silky texture and warm floral scent, all the while avoiding fully looking at my eyes.

A knock at the door reminds me of my task. Flicking through the clothing, I find a simple cotton dress, one that has minimal adornments and buttons—I do not want to risk damaging anymore clothing after already ruining six pair of stockings. "I'll be out in just a moment," I call, answering the knock. My voice carries with it a light, musical lilt. If it were not for the husky undertone, I would have scarcely recognized that it was I who was speaking.

In my nervousness I crush the knob and nearly tear the door off its hinges when pulling it open. Standing in the hallway is Edward, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," I say softly, bringing a smile to Edward's face. Turning to close the door behind me, I notice the damage. "Oh my. I didn't realize...I guess I don't know my own strength."

Edward lets out a belly laugh; I enjoy the sound immensely and try to remember if Edward was always this happy. "Come, my love, let me show you our home."

The villa we occupy is located on the outskirts of London. The neighbor Edward spoke of lives on a nearby estate. There is very little in the way of traffic near our home. The access road is heavily wooded and almost invisible. I am astounded at how secluded we are, yet I can hear the faint bustle of London miles and miles away.

"Your room is here, on the top floor. Carlisle and I share space on the middle level. The main floor is for human pretense," Edward informs, and I nod in understanding.

"The grounds are expansive, but I suggest that you do not go out alone, not just yet. Believe me, Carlisle will not have either of us roaming around unsupervised as we are so new to this life." He furrows his brow and looks at me with concentration before his face returns to its preciously contented expression.

Not fully comprehending the implications of Edward's words or behavior, I hold my tongue as we make our way to Doctor Cullen's office.

"Ah, Isabella, it's good to see you up and about. Please, sit. I have a great many questions for you." I comply, sharing a small settee with Edward. Carlisle gives the young man…_vampire…_a stern look causing Edward's posture to stiffen. "Now then, please, tell me what is the last thing that you remember?"

Scanning my mind for a moment before I speak, I find it suddenly cavernous and seemingly empty. There is a small glow in the far corner of my mind that calls to me. I reach for the fading and flickering images, willing them to sharpen.

"I don't really know. I was aware of voices and pain. I thought I was dead. I guess I am dead, but not." Knitting my brow, I shake my head softly hoping to get my mind to settle.

"Yes, my dear, but what do you remember from before the pain?"

"There are some things, but they're just not sharp. Little snippets of things: smiles, letters, trains...I don't really know what it all means."

"Isabella, I've already told you that the Masens and your Aunt Mildred succumbed to influenza back in Chicago. We are just outside of London. Do you have any recollection of how you came to be here?"

I think on it for a moment before some images began to solidify. My mouth falls open in surprise, which brings a knowing smile to Edward and Doctor Cullen's faces. "You died, Edward. I got a letter that said you had died with your parents. Doctor Cullen visited me and then Aunt Millie died...I was all alone."

Edward reaches out and takes my hand. "I was there, Bella, watching over you."

Looking at my fiancée with tender eyes, I answer. "I know...somehow, I just knew you were there."

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**This was originally a O/S for the TLS Angst Contest 2013; I'm reposting in a format/order closer to my original vision. Postapocolyptic Depository, Vampmama PhanFikShun, and Heather S kept me away from the ledge as I scrambled to meet the contest word count. Thank you, ladies, for your support. Thanks to all of you who have put this fic on alert. I hope you enjoy the re-imaging of the story. **

**Until next time...**


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